Hero
by Ichihime
Summary: Sometimes, in the middle of the night, huddled beneath his blankets and trying to block out the thoughts he'd rather not have, Tom imagines. Oneshot.


Hero

* * *

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, huddled beneath his blankets and trying to block out the thoughts he'd rather not have, Tom imagines.

He imagines himself as someone else, as someone that matters. Someone that can do stuff and won't just freeze in terror. As someone who can know that he did something great and who gets all the glory. Someone people will acknowledge and not just forget.

It's hard to be a ghost in your own house.

Tom's parents are in the middle of divorce talks. At least that's how it seems. Sometimes Tom can't understand why they still bother to live in the same house, but moving in London is expensive and, while his parents both earn a decent enough amount of money, the one moving out would have to be ready to spend a lot of money that the other one would get to save.

Besides, they can't quite seem to make a decision about who will get to keep the deed for the house. That's one of the reasons his mother throws plates at the wall and his father yells loudly enough for Tom to cover his ears. It's the money. Always the money, and never him.

Living with his parents is about the same as living in a warzone. There's no peace, not even for the innocent.

At times, Tom is jealous. Jerry, his brother, managed to escape the chaos so why should he have to stay? And Jerry isn't even in the country anymore. Jerry's safely away from them, away from his parents, and living on his own. He's sure Jerry would help him if he could, but Tom can't just leave to stay with him. He's just fourteen and he doesn't want to make the custody fight, that he anticipates with dread, even worse by making his parents aware of his desire to escape. He won't be a pawn in their own private war. The whole thing is unfair; he's jealous and he feels bad about being that.

It's been a long time since he last told his parents that he loved them. He can't even remember the last time he felt loved by them. Can't even remember the last time his mother hugged him or his father ruffled his hair affectionately. It's been too long.

In this house he doesn't matter. Only the money and the divorce talk matters.

So sometimes, in the middle of the night, huddled beneath his blankets, Tom imagines.

He imagines himself as someone else. To tell the truth, he wishes he could be like Alex. Be the hero and be able to save people. To know that his actions count for something and that he's not just getting lost in s myriad of his contemporaries. He wants to be able to feel proud of himself for something more real than a football victory or a somewhat decent grade.

He knows the truth, but sometimes he likes to imagine.

-.-

"Yes. I'm leaving in ten minutes, but I thought I'd let you know."

"They actually gave you time this time?"

"Perhaps Blunt is softening." A laugh. "It's the rush hour. They're picking me up. Probably so they know where they have me."

"Oh. What should I tell the teachers? Nothing or…?"

"I think I have the flu this time. One minute, let me check." A pause. "Yeah. It's the flu. I suppose it'll just worsen if I need it."

"The flu. Got it. I'll tell them I talked to you and that you didn't sound good."

"Just don't overdo it. I don't think they know that you know yet. Not really. It's not official anyway. We'd better keep it that way. You don't want to get caught up in this any more than you already are."

"Should you be talking about this over the phone?"

"It's a secure line. The bank made sure of it."

"Okay. The flu then…"

"Yes. Jack will be telling Brookland, but I think they're starting to doubt my excuses."

"I wonder why…"

A chuckle. "It's obvious by now."

"It should be. Too many excuses."

"Just hint of it to the teachers, alright? It'll probably help my credibility."

"Will do, Alex. How long will you be gone for?"

"Not for too long I hope. But you never know with them."

-.-

He knows Alex's life isn't easy. He's seen some of the scars and he's not jealous of that part.

Tom knows he shouldn't be jealous at all. It's a terrible thing and it's not something to wish for. He knows why Alex wants to get away from it. Tom is convinced he understands that.

But sometimes he imagines how it would feel like to be Alex. Important. Capable. Clever. Brave. Good. Heroic. And he can't stop wishing for the same position. He dreams of being the hero and of someone to realize that.

He wants to be in that kind of situation. Tom pictures himself in a group of people and he sees himself standing at the forefront of the situation, advising people and telling them that's it's going to be alright with certainty. He won't be afraid then and he will know that to someone he is important, that to someone he is needed, not forgotten like he is at home.

And he knows that thinking like that is terrible because Alex isn't happy when he is in that position and because he knows that it would never be like that in reality. Tom doesn't think of himself as a coward, but he isn't Alex. He'll never be like Alex.

He'll always be less.

-.-

"Oh."

"Alex told me to tell you that if a week goes by you can release a rumour of him being in the hospital. It's been a week."

"Oh. Is he?"

"No, but… I don't know where he is or if he is even alive. I don't trust them, but… Could you just tell them that he's in the hospital?"

"Yes. That's fine." A pause. "Are you okay, Jack?"

"You know me; I'm just a bit worried. Don't worry about me, Tom. It's not the first time Alex is away. Alex is like Ian in a way, I really don't think this will be the last time. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure."

"I am. Thanks for helping."

"No problem."

-.-

He feels so small when he is at school. He has friends and he does average in his classes, but his friends have other friends and his classes aren't where he's at his best.

He doesn't know where he is at his best.

He wishes he knew. It would make life easier.

It's better when Alex is around because Alex always puts Tom first. Alex always sits with him during lunch and Alex always asks him if he wants to do anything after school when they have time. Alex is the only one that really sees Tom. That's how Tom feels.

He remembers being bullied. He'd hated going to school then, but his parents would insist, saying something about how it would get better. He'd used to hide during lunch and he made sure to come to class early and leave late. And then Alex came.

Alex took care of the bullies and Alex made sure he had someone to talk with during school. Tom started playing football and fitting in. School became more okay and it became easier to both be and pretend to be happy and cheerful all the time.

Perhaps that's why he wouldn't mind being more like Alex. Because once upon a time Alex had played hero for him.

-.-

Once, when there is nothing else to do before going to bed, Tom looks up the definition of hero.

_**hero**_

_n__pl__**-roes**_

_**1.**__ a man distinguished by exceptional courage, nobility, fortitude, etc._

_**2.**__ a man who is idealized for possessing superior qualities in any field_

_**3.**__ (Myth & Legend / Classical Myth & Legend) __Classical myth__ a being of extraordinary strength and courage, often the offspring of a mortal and a god, who is celebrated for his exploits_

_**4.**__ the principal male character in a novel, play, etc.*_

It's the first definition that gets to him; the courage, nobility and fortitude. Tom wants to prove that he can be like that. He just doesn't know how.

He's not like Alex, stumbling into trouble all the time. There's nowhere for him to prove himself.

That's why he's surprised when he does get his chance and there's no Alex around to save the day. It's not like how he imagined it, but he already knew it wouldn't be. He didn't expect it to happen at all.

Reality is always worse than fiction, especially when reality has yourself playing the role of the hero. How many happy heroes do you see?

You rarely chose to be the hero in real life. You don't go and say: "I'm the hero", and then you are. It is perhaps a choice of a sort, but it's the sort of choice that's only made in desperation. You ask yourself who else could do it, and you come up with 'no one else' as an answer.

Not to say that no one wilfully chooses to be a hero, but being a hero is more often than not a position thrust upon you. It's rarely willing, though many find satisfaction in it.

-.-

Tom wasn't the first to notice it. Nor was he the one to sound the alarm. With the sudden ringing in his ears he was as shocked as anyone else. There were a few moments where he couldn't for the life of him remember what happened. Tom couldn't remember standing up nor running to the door, despite the fact that he obviously did.

He knows it wasn't very hero-like at all. And he's comparing himself to Alex again, because he's certain that Alex would have remained calm throughout the whole thing. Tom's not like Alex and he's painfully aware of it.

But that day it didn't matter.

In the rush of escaping, in the midst of clambering feet and stressed minds, he was the only one to see that not everyone was leaving the chemistry lab. He couldn't just leave after seeing that so he stayed behind instead of running for help. It was uncertain, anyway, that anyone would be able to do anything to help until the firemen arrived and by then it might be too late. Not that Tom actively thought that. He was a bit too busy trying to figure out what to do with Emily Jones and Jessica Causton.

Emily is on the floor, gasping for breath, and Jessica is frantically trying to get her to stand up. She's hysterical.

Tom doesn't know what to do. All he knows is that they need to get out, _now! _

"What's wrong with her?" he quickly asks, rather insensitively.

"She can't breathe! Can't you see that, you idiot!" Jessica responds loudly.

Tom winces. "We need to get out."

"You think I don't know that? She won't move!"

"Doesn't she have medicine or something? What's wrong with her?"

"Asthma. Look in her bag. She should have something."

"An inhaler?" Tom feels a bit stupid for even asking and tries to find her bag. There are two on the floor; a green and a blue one. "Which one?" He doesn't want to waste time.

"What?" Jessica looks to where he points. "The green one. Hurry."

Tom wonders where the teachers are. They should already know that they are missing; there are routines, they're supposed to keep them, the students, safe. He feels out of his depth as he looks through the incredibly cluttered bag; Emily has no sense of order. He hears Jessica talk to Emily, asking her to hang on. Tom's scared. He'll admit to that.

His heart is thudding loudly in his chest and he feels out of breath even though he has done nothing to warrant that. He's supposed to be in good shape. Tom's scared and it's not helping and yet he can't seem to stop being scared.

The situation isn't anything like he imagined it would be.

"Here," he says and passes the blue inhaler to Jessica after finally finding it at the bottom of the bag. He can smell smoke now, and that's really not good if Emily has asthma.

Jessica hurriedly finds a way for Emily to use the inhaler and Tom lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Emily breathing properly again. A moment later it turns into a cough.

Tom spends a moment coughing before he realizes, truly realizes and understands that the school, his school, is actually on fire.

It seems unbelievable.

"We really, really need to go."

Jessica just continues talking to Emily, who, despite breathing, won't move.

"Jessica! The building is burning down!"

Jessica turns around at him and nearly yells, "Don't you think I know that! She can't move and she's kind of heavy, you know."

"Let's carry her then."

Between them they manage lift Emily between them and get out the door. The stairs aren't as much of an obstacle as they might have been, at least until they see the end of the stairs where the walls are burning. Tom vaguely remembers some school decorations that the teachers had deemed proper for the school spirit. Apparently they're a fire hazard. It's not too bad just yet, they can still see through it easily, but the heat and the smoke has worsened. Emily's breath is hitching again and Jessica can't seem to stop coughing.

Distantly Tom ponders why the school doesn't have better routines for this after the last science block burnt down. It was just last year. They really should have been able to rethink everything by now.

And yet, no teacher seemed concerned the chemistry class when they left the building.

"Hurry up," Tom tries. "It'll only get worse the longer we wait."

And they manage to get through it. Tom has no idea how and all of it is kind of blurry afterwards. It's like walking in a haze; he can't think and he knows he can't stop moving despite how much he wants to give up and lie down. He doesn't. Emily is heavy and both he and Jessica stumble as they try to avoid the warm metal pieces around them, on the walls and the doors around them.

It's not a long walk from the stairs to the exit, though it feels like it, and at the door they're met by the firemen who quickly take control of the situation.

Jessica, Emily and Tom are all handled into oxygen masks and an ambulance takes care of them. Heavy blankets are pulled around them and the paramedics get their names and their parents' numbers. Jessica and Emily's parents are already there. The school crowd are staying away from them, though Tom can hear the constant talking and see the flashes of light from cameras.

His muscles ache and it occurs to Tom that Emily was kind of heavy and that he wouldn't have managed it without Jessica, and she wouldn't have made without him. Some foreign feeling fills him up, but at the moment he doesn't really care to think about it. He's hurting and scared and somehow he can't quite calm down yet.

But they're all safe now, Tom tells himself. It becomes a sort of a mantra to him as he slowly settles down in the ambulance. It's over and done with now and he can't seem to stop shaking.

Tom feels the air being pumped through the oxygen mask and into him as he looks at the paramedics checking up on Emily's breathing and a nasty burn he hadn't noticed Jessica getting. His throat kind of hurts, he notices

Their parents are standing with them, looking so relieved that it sort of hurts to watch them. There's an obvious lack of Tom's parents. No one comments upon it, but Mr. Grey stands beside him and gives him looks of worry and concern.

Exhausted, all he can think is that he did good.

Maybe he doesn't need to be Alex. Maybe he just needs to be Tom.

-.-

"Tom?"

"Alex? You're back!"

Heavy breathing. "Yeah. I'm in the hospital, though I'm supposed to be let out this weekend."

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." A brief pause. "Yeah, I'm okay, Tom."

"Great."

"Do you want to hang out this weekend? I'm not supposed to do anything physical, but that game you've wanted to try just came out, right? We could get that and well-"

"Yes! It's been all over the web lately. When should I come over?"

"Saturday evening?"

"Works for me." A moment of silence. "I'm glad you're okay, Alex."

A whispering voice. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

* The free dictionary

_AN: Does anyone know what happened to the Firm Prompts? They were quite inspiring. And if I were to post a collection of oneshots for the AR fandom, would anyone be interested?_


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